São Jorge & back to Horta

Our initial plan was to go back to Horta after the stay in Lajes, but while Natasha and Irina were swimming, I found out that there are no spots in Horta, and in any case we have seen most of it. Instead we decided to go around the eastern tip of Pico and head to Velas on São Jorge. The harbormaster in Lajes assured us that we would enjoy the harbor and the harbormaster in Velas told us that he will have a spot for us rafting to another boat. I was a bit cynical about rafting, but I also knew that it would be possible to anchor given the forecasted light winds.

Motorsail to Velas

When we pulled out of the harbor, we saw the whale watching boats a bit offshore, but generally on our way, so we pointed towards them. We did see a spout from a distance, but otherwise our whale watching attempt was underwhelming.

The wind was light, precluding sailing, but based on the forecast, my hope was to be able to sail once we would round the tip of the island. The cliffs on the southeastern tip of the islands offered a nice view, so it was not boring and we had something to look at. Once we were around the tip, the reality diverged from the forecast: the wind remained light and sailing with any sort of decent speed was impossible. On we motored directly to Velas.

We haven't seen that much floating garbage in the ocean, but now I noticed a piece of a very thick rope floating. We tried to maneuver to pick it up, but it was too heavy to be brought up by a net and too thick to hook it. There was only one possibility: swimming to get it. Peter was ready to take the wheel, Irina was on a work call with her interns, our guests were looking at me in disbelief that I would jump into the water. Reaching the rope was quick, but swimming with it was very slow and even the light wind was drifting Salty Ginger away from me way too fast: we still had the mainsail unrolled. I told Peter to do a loop around me. The life ring was already in the water, but the line was tangled. Assi untangled it and as Peter steered the boat around me in a circle, I grabbed the line and Assi pulled me onto the boat. Irina was still on her call, pretty much unfazed by all the activity around her. Assi and Natasha complimented her on being able to just carry on with the call and were a bit unhappy with me for not providing adequate instructions on how the whole retrieval process should have gone once the skipper is in the water and not aboard.

The clouds over São Jorge were slowly coming down into the canal between it and Pico island. And some clouds apparently created localized drizzle, but it looked as if they came down to touch the surface of the ocean.

São Jorge

The clouds dissipated by the time we were pulling into the harbor. It was sunny and hot. Prime time for a swim. The harbormaster directed us to tie up to a large boat at the end of the pontoon. The French owners made a crossing from Dominican Republic and have been exploring the islands for the past 2 months. "C'est magnifique ici! And the people are very friendly!" It still felt a bit strange being tied up to another boat with the owners aboard, but they didn't seem to mind. The only rule was not to walk in shoes on their deck, which was easy to respect.

On we went to a natural pool. Comfortable water temperature, some fish that we could see while snorkeling. Simple relaxing time. Vacation!

The village is quite small but tidy and pretty. Wide street covered with cobble stones and lava rocks give it a welcoming look. Yes, that's the one very welcoming street in the village.

Sail to Horta

In the morning Natasha and Assi got up quite early and came back with pastries for breakfast. Assi looked up what the wacka-wacka birds might be and discovered that the noises we've been enjoying for the past few nights were coming from Cory's shearwaters. And the noise they make is their mating call. At least that explains the different tonalities of the sounds that we hear.

We looked at the weather which very clearly said that it was supposed to be sunny. Instead we had a steady drizzle. Half hour later it was indeed sunny. In any case, the wind forecast was boring, calling for a light northeasterly. Well, maybe we can fly the spinnaker.

Out in the São Jorge channel the wind was very very light. All 2 knots of it made the direction absolutely irrelevant. We were motoring. 

When I jokingly said that we should see where the whale watching boats were, the general reaction was "whatever, we don't care". But once we were a few miles out of the harbor someone did ask where they were. It was 12:15, so clearly they were in port. With no pros to orient us towards the wildlife, we simply set course for Horta. Then I noticed a splash directly ahead of us. And another. Soon we were next to a pod of dolphins who were not interested in playing with the boat, but they didn't mind our presence either. They were not in a hurry, and once I slowed the boat down to 3 knots we were going alongside the dolphins who periodically would breach and spin in ways that clearly indicated that they were having lunch. We stayed with them for at least 20 minutes. Our daughter called us on Whatsapp and got a live show transmitted to Zurich in real time. A few minutes into the dolphin watching I jokingly said that "nobody cares about dolphins anyway, so we might as well resume course". That was not well received.

The motoring in flat seas made everyone feel good, so for the first time we had a passage when nobody was sleeping and everyone was hungry! Salad, pasta, white wine, coffee... The European way.

Back on land

Irina wanted to take advantage of the warmth and wanted to swim. We walked to the northern side of Horta to find a small sand beach, but the amount of floating sand raised by the breaking waves did not make the water look welcoming. So instead we walked to a cafe where our departing guests got take-away sandwiches and we had beer and port wine.

The three of us went back to Salty Ginger and while Peter was entertaining himself on a digital device, Irina and I plunged into the clean water. Who needs a beach when the water in the anchorage is pristine?